Page 20 of Free to Believe
I don’t say it, but I feel it so strongly my heart’s about to burst. And for just a moment, the walls I’ve carefully built are lowered and the silence around my heart isn’t painful. It’s comforting as the bonds of sisterhood fill it.
We’re all smooshed together still when Ali says, “Jesus, I hope no one farts. I’ve got three asses in my face.”
And with that, we collapse with laughter.
How on earth am I supposed to find my balance without them when I’ve never been my best except with them?
11
Jake
Dani called back to let me know her pain-in-the-ass friend is supposed to be arriving today along with what seems like a million other tourists who want to take refuge on Nantucket. Her orders to go buy her friend supplies royally pissed me off. Apparently either this chick is a model or she has no cooking skills whatsoever because there is no real food in addition to having to purchase yogurt, fruit, and fresh vegetables, some cheese and wine. I also had to purchase single-serving Keurig cups. Which of course meant buying a Keurig. And dog food that cost as much as the entire grocery bill.
Jesus, I bet it’s some kind of yap-yap dog that’s going to keep me up all hours of the night. Just what I need.
Lugging all of the bags up the garage steps, I stop dead in my tracks when I see two suitcases, a large black duffle, and an oversized slouchy bag sitting outside the door. Glancing at my watch, I mutter, “Shit.” She’s already here.
Dropping all the bags near her luggage, I wander along the porch that wraps around the garage apartment. I don’t find Dani’s mystery guest seated at either the table and chairs nor the lounger I spent most of yesterday scrubbing down with Jenna’s reluctant help. Lifting my hand to shade my eyes from the sun’s overwhelming glare, I spot a lone figure on the sand.
Well, as long as she’s occupied for a few minutes, I might as well bring in the groceries. Turning, I stomp back along the deck. When I get to the door, I sigh in disgust. It looks like I’ll have to carry in her ladyship’s bags before I can bring in anything. Using the set of keys I plan on turning over before returning to my regularly scheduled life of arguing with my daughter and then taking it out on my music, I unlock the side door to the apartment.
Memories assail me the minute I cross the threshold. Leaning against the jamb, I wonder how many times Michelle, Jenna, and I stayed here before our lives disintegrated. Ten? Twenty? Does it really matter now? Except as I cross to the bedroom with the first two bags, I can see the scuff marks made by Jenna’s exersaucer when she was a baby. I remember being horrified and Dani just laughing, saying it gave the room character. Squatting down, I run my fingers over the floors, which have been re-stained but never buffed out.
“I sure as hell hope you can explain who you are. Otherwise, I’m pressing Send to call the police,” a cold voice says from the doorway. “I was told by the owner no one should be in this apartment when I got here.”
Lifting my head, I see a woman who’s dressed like she belongs on a runway right next to my cousin. Two words scream through my brain: high maintenance. It doesn’t matter she’s wearing shredded jeans and a studded tank top, I recognize the sunglasses on her eyes as Armani since Dani did a photoshoot for them last year. “Couldn’t be bothered to pick up a bag on your way in, lady?” I bite out as I push to my feet.
If anything, her voice gets colder. “Not when I’m uncertain who you are and what you’re doing.”
“The groceries didn’t give it away?” Dani said some of her friends weren’t the brightest. This must be one of them. “Let me spell it out for you. This is a onetime delivery of food for you and your mutt.” I strain my eyes to get a look at her dog, but I can’t hear it, which I suppose is a good sign.
It’s boiling outside by Nantucket summer standards, but I feel like I’m in the middle of one of our coldest winters in this room with this woman. “If you let me know the amount you spent, I will be happy to pay you cash for your troubles right now.”
I shake my head in disgust. “Dani already took care of everything.” I expect to see the ice around her thaw. Instead she frowns, either upset or disturbed, I can’t tell. Frankly, I don’t care.
“I’ll have to contact her. That was—unexpected,” she says softly. Turning around, she moves back toward the door. Picking up her last two bags, she places them on the couch and begins rooting through one of them.
“No problem,” I say sarcastically. “I’ll just grab the food.”
She pulls out an object and pops it open. I catch the glint of a mirror as the sunlight reflects off it. Oh, dear God. Is she checking her makeup? I make a mental note to keep Jenna as far away from this person as humanely possible. Grabbing handfuls of bags in my fists, including the brand-new Keurig, I turn just in time to hear a loud snap as it closes. Suddenly, sunglasses have been replaced by red glasses frames that display the darkest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
And they’re looking at me in disgust.
I realize I must have voiced some of my thoughts out loud when she says, “No, I wanted to be able to see what I was doing. Now, if you’ll give me my keys, I’m more than capable of putting away all of the stuff and settling in. Oh, but don’t let me be so rude,” she adds snidely. Reaching into her monstrosity of a purse, she pulls out several bills. Folding them, she shoves them into my hands. “There’s your tip for being half of a human and doing me a favor. Since my car with the rest of my stuff won’t be delivered until next week, I have no way of getting around the island.” I’m frozen in shock—whether that’s because she has more crap or because she’s so brittle, I don’t know —but she moves to the door and grabs the rest of the groceries. After moving them toward the kitchen, she comes back and holds out her hand. “Now, hand over the keys and get out. I’ll be sure to tell the homeowner and your employer what a fabulous job you did with your delivery.”
Holy shit. She has no idea who I am. No wonder she was so hostile when she first came in. I can almost see the humor in the situation now. “Listen, Ms.…” I wait for her to supply her last name because I can’t remember if Dani ever gave it to me or not.
Her stony face says reveals nothing.
I clear my throat. “Right. I should probably tell you—” I don’t have a chance to say more because she cuts me off.
“Can I have the keys please?”
I pull them from my pocket and hold them out to her, face up on my palm. Taking them, she slides them into her pocket. “Again, I appreciate your assistance.” Moving to the door, she stands by it.
Shaking my head, I walk through the door. I’m on the other side of the threshold when I give her what I think will be something for her to think on. “Has anyone told you you’re a complete icy bitch?”
It takes her less than a half a second to reply. “All the damn time.”
